


Might and Reverence.

by LadygoldLoZ



Category: Trials and Trebuchets (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Hatch Shenanagains TM, Investigations!, Pre-Canon, Writing this made me 2000 times more attached to Fidan and if shes actually dead in canon I will cry, a lot of that, its just like, really sad because DAFT is a tragedy tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27122227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadygoldLoZ/pseuds/LadygoldLoZ
Summary: A group of students get roped into a mystery after discovering a hidden door in the kitchens. It's just a shame they didn't give up halfway and raid the kitchen instead, honestly.
Relationships: Artis Artisian & Dain, Artis Artisian & Fidan Peslam, Artis Artisian & Tebathe, Artis Artisian/ Fidan Peslam, D&A&F&T
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are again I suppose! DAFT as a concept really fascinates me, so I guess it was only a matter of time until I wrote something about them. It was originally going to be a short thing but it kept growing so I guess this'll be my first chaptered T&T fic now! Also this is the second draft of this story (the first one sucked lmao) and I'm still not completely happy with it but that's just how it is I suppose.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Artis Artisian really isn’t sure about this. All in all it’s one of Fidan’s more crazy schemes, and Artis is _really_ hoping Dain or Teb will say something. Because here’s the thing. Artis and Dain and Teb and Fidan have known eachother for three whole years, ever since a disastrous group project in the first year that got them landed in detention, and if Artis has learned anything in that time it’s that Fidan despises cowards. And, well, Artis doesn’t know if opposing himself to _sneaking through a hidden door that Fidan found while stealing food from the kitchens_ makes him a coward. He doesn’t think it does, however, Fidan might. And the other thing, the thing that’s complicating matters so frightfully, is Artis is even more afraid of Fidan disliking him than he is of any magical doors. 

”It’s probably just food-storage anyway” says Dain but Artis can see his gray eyes are widened with interest. He’s _certainly_ not opposing himself, then. That leaves Teb, however as is customary for breakfast, he is half asleep in his porridge. Artis takes a deep breath. 

Fidan is… Artis and Fidan are complicated. At first they _really_ didn’t get along. Artis was quiet, nervous and honestly quite antisocial, and Fidan was the stark opposite. Where Artis had come from a small, quiet household living only with his mother, Fidan had arrived the third of her seven siblings to attend Wildcliff, and brought with her all the energy and noise of a home filled with children and cheer. Artis had thought she was absolutely insufferable, and he is pretty sure Fidan didn’t know he existed. 

It had been a friendship built on coincidental meetings. First, the group project with Dain and Teb, where Artis finally found a voice. The disasterous execution was caused by pretty much all of them in equal measure, though Fidan had felt especially bad for suggesting the topic: capturing and studying Monty the cat who neither of them had realized a) belonged to one of the Independent Researchers and 2) was incredibly proficient with his claws. They had slowly grown from strangers to reluctant friends, a trend that only increased as Artis was assigned to tutor Fidan in history and biology after the first midterms. As it turned out, they had a lot in common and frequently wasted their study sessions by simply talking and getting along. And, as they say, it was all downhill from there. 

Smoothly leading to this moment, right in the middle of breakfast rush where Artis is unsure because Fidan just suggested _breaking and entering a hidden door in the kitchens_ and she’s smiling so brilliantly Artis is helpless to do anything but nod along. Fidan takes this reluctant acquiescence as rousing endorsement, as she is wont to do in most situations and her brown eyes sparkle conspiratorially. Artis smiles carefully back. Nothing to do but hope it really is just food-storage, then. 

——-

”Holy shit! Guys, it’s some kind of tunnel!” 

Artis quickly glances over his shoulder as Fidan exclaims, worried despite the long corridor between them and the Reliquary that someone might have heard her. Nothing answers but echo, and when he looks back Fidan’s already casting _Light_ and stepping through the stone door. Teb shivers at his side, but moves to enter after her. Artis sighs, swallows down anxiety and tries to focus on the small tinge of excitement he feels at figuring out what exactly is down that hallway. He can’t exactly go back now.

So, as it turns out, the space _definitely_ isn’t food storage.

Artis is having difficulty processing the sheer sight of what lies before him. They have followed the tunnel all the way to a staircase. A massive room carved almost entirely in rock and most certainly centuries old, if Dain’s geology expertise can be trusted, surrounds them. The staircase is perhaps best described as massive, spiraling down from the ledge they had stopped at into darkness below. Artis feels confused, intrigued and pretty much terrified but he pushes down the fear and looks to his friends. Teb is shivering in the cold but looks absolutely enchanted, repeatedly running a hand through his curly brown hair as he mutters about treasures and artifacts. 

He’s always been, well, Artis doesn’t want to say obsessed because he cares for Teb a great deal and honestly his passion is as inspiring as it is occasionally worrying, but _fascinated_ by objects. As long as Artis has known him Tebathe has been a collector, of anything from shiny rocks to books and even toys. Going anywhere near a market with the boy always ends up a disaster, however Artis somehow always manages to find something for himself that ends up being really useful at the same time so he can’t be too upset. Not that he would be, anyway. Tebathe is a kind person and the best listener Artis has ever known. Which is why he’s presently shrugging off his school robes and, careful not to trip in the darkness, draping them over his friend’s shoulders. Teb’s mumblings pause for just a moment, long enough for Artis to catch an uttered ”thanks,” before Teb wraps the robe firmly around his shoulders and continues onward. 

Artis, not wanting to be left behind, hurries after, down the winding staircase two steps at a time.

——-

_”Power from Progress, Progress from Might, Might from Reverence, Reverence from Power”_ Fidan recites aloud, crouched on the ground next to the Hatch. 

Teb hums thoughtfully. ”A poem, perhaps? Or some kind of warning.”

Artis isn’t looking at the Hatch. His eyes flit nervously between the four massive statues that surround them. He can’t quite shake the feeling that they’re _looking_ at him, even though their faces are shrouded in darkness and they’re _statues honestly Artis stop being such a baby._ He swallows thickly, gripping his wand tight and keeps his eyes on the darkness while his friends investigate.

”It’s _sunken_ ” Dain exclaims, voice laced with confusion and surprise. ”There’s no other explanation!”

He’s crouched by the edge of the Hatch, running his hands over it as he speaks and trailing patterns in the dust. Artis hurries over, followed closely by the others.  
”There’s no gap, no ridges, no nothing!” Dain’s voice is breathy and shrill, caught somewhere between excitement and fear. ”The way I see it there’s two explanations. Either this place was built by some kind of super-advanced society with masonry that’s out of this world or…”

”It’s sunken?” Fidan is dropping into a crouch beside him, bringing her light down to inspect the ledge in more detail. Artis knows he’d be useless at identifying whatever they’re talking about, so he keeps his eyes trained the closest statue; an imposing-looking lady seated on an equally imposing throne. 

”Well,” Fidan stands back up and dusts off her pants. ”There doesn’t seem to be a way to open it at any rate. And I’m _super_ curious about what’s in those tunnels over there.” 

She hums, playing with the ball of light as Dain gathers his things. ”A sunken hatch and an unexplored ruin, huh? This is shaping up to be a real adventure, don’t you think?” 

Artis can’t help but nod in response. 

——-

As it turned out, the various tunnels held only further questions. After a ghastly experience with a chamber crawling with bugs which Artis and Teb had unanimously decided would remain _resolutely_ unexplored (Fidan and Dain hadn’t needed much convincing), and another strange dead end room with three seemingly unopenable urns, they’d finally come upon a room where they were making some progress. 

”They’ve gotta be some kind of tests,” Dain says, leaning against one of the chamber walls. ”My guess is magical prowess. See this here-” he gestures to the large bronze ball, neatly placed on a plinth in the middle of the room. ”Seems tailor-made for some kind of transmutation exam, don’t you think? Telekinesis and the like.” 

Artis nods slowly. ”So, what? We’ve found some kind of abandoned exam dungeon?” 

Over by the plinth, Fidan and Teb are deep into a debate on whether it’s possible to push the ball up the slope with sheer force, or if they should employ some kind of magical solution. Dain and Artis had been given the task of investigating the room for further clues, though they had quickly declared it barren and given up the search. 

”It’s at least worth a try!” Teb declares, taking a resolute stance and beginning to chant the words to the spell _Dimension door._ The air swirls and thickens in front of him, dust and grime whipping up from the floor as Teb begins to fade into the darkness. The giant ball, however, is staying resolutely corporeal and Teb eventually has to admit defeat, slumping against it with a sigh. 

”Well, that may be so,” Dain continues, giving a vague gesture of encouragement at Teb’s slumped form. ”But it’s not part of Wildcliff, no way. The school’s not _nearly_ as old as this place.” 

Artis furrows his brow. ”What, then?” 

Dain shrugs with a grin. ”What do suppose went on here before it got turned into a school?”

The question lodges itself in the very back of Artis’s mind, a small prick of distraction as the rest of him puts his energy in to convincing Fidan that unleashing a _chaos bolt_ almost definitely wouldn’t provide enough momentum to propel the ball up the slope.

In the end, as is usual for them, the most outlandish of their proposals turns out to be the one that works. It involves fastening a rope to the top of the slope with Teb’s _Mage hand_ , which Fidan immediately climbs without any greater difficulty, holding it taught as Dain picks up Teb and settles him on his shoulders before turning to climb the slope himself. Teb, fully focused on maintaining a _Floating disk_ beneath the ball, almost falls off at least twice, but in the end they reach the top.

Artis’ gaze followed his friends as they put the plan to works, except somewhere around when Dain first began climbing the rope his vision goes fuzzy and just for a second, an instant he’s somewhere far, far away. When he returns, the whiplash is so intense it leaves his heart racing and legs trembling and somewhere, hidden just out of sight, a voice whispers _take them._

_Take them, and free me._

From the slope high above Fidan cheers triumphantly as the metal ball rolls onto a switch. Down below, Artis Artisian is moving toward the plinth and it doesn’t quite feel like his hands are his own when he reaches down into a newly opened compartment and picks up a yellow, gleaming orb. 

_Might has been recovered_ the whisper chants and Artis blinks awake in startled confusion, feeling as though he’s just resurfaced from being submerged in water. When he looks down, his hands are trembling and he feels rather nauseous. The Orb of Might lays heavy in his hands. 

——

Artis sleeps uneasily that night. He keeps waking up, gasping for breath, feeling inexplicably like he’s running, though he doesn’t know from what. The artifact from the hatch is placed neatly on his bedside table, and sometimes when Artis opens his eyes he feels like it’s watching him. Following him. 

They hadn’t explored much more of the cavern that night. Teb had been exhausted from casting such heavy magic and Artis hadn’t been able to hide his discomfort for very long, either. Fidan may be completely stubborn, but she wasn’t unreasonable and even she had conceded they had seen plenty enough for one night. She had made them all promise to come down again, though, and every time Artis thinks about that his stomach squeezes with fear. He can’t help feeling like they _woke_ something terrible with their explorations. They escaped with their lives once, but that’s no guarantee they’ll keep being lucky.

When the sun rises in the morning, Artis feels his exhaustion like a heavy weight, pressing his limbs firmly down onto the mattress. When he gets up to get dressed, he thinks he sees something other than his reflection, just for a moment. He shudders, covers the mirror with a blanket just in case. 

As he makes his way from his dorm to breakfast, he remains acutely aware of just how many dark corners and nooks he passes. Hiding places, for him or for _something else._

He lasts the entire morning, spending first and second period listlessly scribbling notes even though he can barely hear his professors speak over the racing of his own heart. It’s a sunny day, and that helps. Fidan catches up with him in the hallway on the way to lunch, and that helps too. Artis feels a bit more like himself when he listens to her ramble about the newest adventure novel she’s picked up. He’s never quite appreciated Fidan’s ability to keep a conversation going with minimal input from anyone but herself before. He certainly does now.

He’s got third period with Dain, and he’s never been more relieved to see his friend waving at him. They sit down next to eachother and Dain places his geology book in the middle of the table since Artis forgot his this morning and neither of them say anything more but Artis, inexplicably, gains some of his focus back all the same. 

Hanging out with Dain is the best remedy for stress that Artis knows, so when class is finished and Dain suggests they skip fourth period and go outside, Artis immediately agrees. He doesn’t even bother to check what his fourth period is, and he knows Dain probably didn’t either. 

They wind up walking down a small pathway behind the newly constructed Zoology building, in an area that’s as close to secluded as you can reasonably get without climbing down the mountain. Dain and Artis come here reasonably often, usually during exam periods to chat or play cards and forget about the looming threat of school for a little bit. There’s a small tinge of coldness to the breeze and leaves that are just beginning to turn yellow hang above them in huge clusters. Somehow, even though there are more hiding spaces than ever before, Artis doesn’t feel as compelled to search them anymore. 

Dain’s laugh is bright and easy as he tells Artis about an incident from his first period class and Artis responds in turn, feeling lighter with every step. Eventually Dain stops, sets down his school backpack and procures a deck of cards. He doesn’t mention the Hatch and Artis doesn’t know if it’s because he noticed Artis’ discomfort, wouldn’t put it past him- Dain is more perceptive than he’s given credit for- , or simply a very lucky coincidence. Artis doesn’t bring it up either, and they sit in a companionable silence playing cards until the sun goes down and dew starts to gather on the ground around them. 

———

When Fidan asks Artis if he wants to study after school the next day, Artis knows for sure they’ve conspired without him. 

She doesn’t even bother denying it either, which makes it all the more infuriating (and endearing).  
”You got freaked out down there. Frankly, I don’t really blame you, it was dark and creepy as all hell. Besides, I need help with history.”

Artis, of course, doesn’t even contemplate saying no for a second. Fidan’s expression is serene like a glittering lake and Artis has to look away because he can feel his cheeks heating up just from _looking_ at her. 

Of course, Fidan is no Dain and she’s not known to easily put aside something she’s curious about. At least it’s no surprise why she’s struggling with her history, especially since she drags Artis along to look up books on ancient archeology for at least half an hour before they even start studying.

They’ve been rehearsing the causes and effects of the Second Dwarven Revolution for nearly an hour when she finally breaks. 

”Gods, I wonder what’s down there,” she mumbles, almost absentmindedly, before seemingly catching herself. Her freckled cheeks turn a bit red, and Artis’s heart skips a beat even as dread coils in his stomach. 

”Shit, sorry!” She blurts immediately, shifting in her seat and almost dislodging the large book she’s perched on her knees. ”I know I shouldn’t bring it up- I’m just so _curious._ ” 

Artis doesn’t know how to respond, wants to reassure her that it’s alright and beg her to forget about it all in one.  
”I’m curious too,” he says at last. It’s true. He’s afraid, but undeniably curious all the same. 

”Like, I dunno what’s in that Hatch but it’s gotta be _important_ , right? And, like, I can’t find a record of it anywhere, so it’s possible we might have made a genuine discovery here. It’s absolutely maddening to have to focus on, ugh _Braccusim XII_ and some stupid revolutions when there’s a veritable goldmine full of mystery and adventure beneath our feet!” 

Artis nods along, soothed by the melody of her voice. Right now, among dusty books and sun rays that make Fidan’s hair shine like gleaming copper, it’s very easy to put the Hatch aside. Sure, it’s dark and creepy, but what evidence does Artis have that it’s actually _dangerous_ other than some feelings and a nightmare? 

Fidan turns a page in her book, pouting all the while. Artis doubts she’s actually reading at this point, but doesn’t point it out. He picks up his own tome, _An Exploration of The Dwarven Kingdoms Throughout Recorded History,_ and tries to focus on the subject at hand, but his thoughts keep straying. The more he tries to remember what he was so worried about down there, the more he feels confused and vaguely embarrassed. There was no sign of danger, nothing but shadows and somewhat creepy statues, and damn it Artis is a 4th year now. He’s way too old to be afraid of _shadows._

”Well if it’s really distracting you this much we’ll have no choice but solve the mystery quickly so you don’t fail history,” he says with a small smile, delighting in the way Fidan’s eyes sparkle at the words.

”Now you’re speaking my language!” Fidan replies with a grin. Suddenly, though, her expression falls into something more somber.  
”You know, if you’re worried you don’t have to go,” she says quietly, almost shyly. ”Like, I know I can be a lot and I really don’t want to pressure you because, like, this isn’t some kind of prank or whatever it’s- well we don’t really know what and that’s kind of the point.”

Artis’s chest feels tight and all he can think is _she’s amazing I never want to leave her side,_ and his throat is tight when he replies, almost instinctively ”No, I want to be there. I don’t want you guys going alone.”  
His stomach twists with anxiety as he speaks, as if trying to remind him he’s been trying to _dissuade_ them from going back, but right now in the sunlight and the warmth Artis easily ignores it. 

”Oh good, because you’re the best one at evocation and honestly we need you,” Fidan answers, a sheepish smile lighting up her face. Artis feels his cheeks heating up as he returns her smile.

——-

He doesn’t have another nightmare for _days,_ and it’s enough to almost make him believe it’s all just in his head after all.

At least.

Until.

_The infatuated one has claimed the Orb of Reverence. How could you have let this happen?_

Artis knows he’s standing upright, but when he looks around he sees nothing but dark. He reaches out for something, _anything_ but his arm is heavy and hot against his side and no matter how much he wills it does not move from his side. 

_Your task is clear_

He wants to respond, shout out into the darkness simply to hear the sound of his own voice and know that there’s _something_ to be found there. No matter how much he fights, not a word escapes his closed lips.

_Take them. All of them. Free me, child._

Artis’s heart is beating rapidly in his chest, an endless stream of pitter-patter that reverberates in his ears as he feels his breath become short. 

_It is not too late. Two still remain. Take them, and I will reward you._

Artis wakes up with a start, sweaty and cold and terrified all at once. The Orb of Might glows almost mockingly from his bedside table.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So turns out this wasn't going to fit in three chapters... But it really shouldn't be more than four I promise!! (Kinda fitting though, four chapters, four orbs, and four members of DAFT, so I guess it's excusable this once)

It’s been a week since their first foray down the secret passageway when Fidan calls a Meeting.

Frankly, Artis thinks it’s a bit of a miracle she’s waited this long to bring it up. He’d _known_ she’d wanted to go back since the moment they exited that damn place. He knows there’s be no talking her out of it and, anyway, he’s not so sure he wants to. There’s a strange kind of _longing_ in his chest, whenever he thinks about the Hatch. A pull, invisible yet unmistakable that catches him off guard in class or at lunch and makes him want to drop everything and run straight to the kitchens. It scares him, perhaps even more than the shadows do. 

When Artis arrives at the designated Meeting Location (otherwise known as Dain’s dorm) Fidan and Dain are already there, seated next to the fireplace and seemingly chatting about nothing. They both startle slightly when Artis pushes the door open, Fidan quickly moving some books and scrolls from a chair while Dain waves. Artis’s hands shake slightly as he goes to sit down.

He’s brought the Orb of Might with him, almost by accident. It sits warm and bright in the pocket of his school robe, where it’s made a home all the more often as of late. It’s as though Artis forgets to put it away as he picks it up, or leaves it nearby and brings it along by instinct. It’s kind of unfortunate, seeing how uncomfortable he is thinking about the Hatch, but he supposes there’s not a lot he can do.  
For now he places it neatly on the table, next to some books about architecture and an ink map that Fidan seems to have drawn herself. 

”So! Let’s compare notes. I’ve been looking into artifacts and styles of architecture. I can say for certain that Dain was correct, whatever the Hatch is, it’s _far_ older than the rest of the school. Though there’s nothing that can narrow it down further that that.” 

Dain raises an eyebrow quizzically. ”The Hatch? What about the rest of the cavern?”  
”Oh, well I mean the entire thing. I shortened it to _”Hatch”_ in my notes.” Fidan holds up a paper covered in scrawled words and smudged ink. The word Hatch is indeed written on several places, some underlined.

”Huh, well I kinda get it. There were all those rooms, but the Hatch is what stood out to me too,” Dain says with a shrug. ”Well anyway. I’ve looked into ancient civilizations, but I can’t find anything that fits the bill. Either they’re too far away, too young or they’re not big enough to have built the place.” 

Fidan hums quietly. ”So we’ve got nothing at all? Nothing on architecture _or_ civilizations. Still, the place didn’t build itself.” Her eyes roams the room, finally settling on the gleaming Orb on the table. ”Guess our best clue is this little thing, then.” Reaching out, she pokes it gently with her index finger.

Artis clears his throat gently, feeling an inexplicable shortness of breath that dissipates as soon as Fidan looks back up. 

”I, uh, looked into it a bit but couldn’t find anything. Sorry. It’s not any kind of gem or gemstone that I could find though, so my guess is either it’s completely magical or it’s molded from something.”

Fidan’s face falls, seemingly surprised at this setback. She opens her mouth to say something, but before she gets the chance there’s a knock on the door and when Artis turns around he can see Teb curiously peeking his head in. 

”Sorry I’m late!” Teb’s got a backpack full of school supplies on one arm and he carefully lowers it to the ground as he steps inside. Artis immediately makes room for him at the table, pushing some scrolls onto the ground, but Teb walks right past him and plops down on Dain’s bed instead, bracing his elbows on his knees and regarding the table curiously.

”I hear we’ve managed to exhaust pretty much all of our leads?” There’s a sharpness to Teb’s grin that makes Artis avert his eyes, suddenly on edge once again. However, when Teb continues, there’s no trace of anything but his normal friendly self.

”I’ve been specifically looking into the artifacts, personally. And I haven’t found anything related to them, per-se, however there is _something.”_

He throws a leather-bound notebook onto the table, pushing a fair amount of scrolls down onto the floor and sending Artis lunging to catch his Orb before it rolls off the edge.

”Basically, what I’ve been able to gather is this. There’s _something_ down there. I can’t find any records of what, but I do know one thing-”

The view of Dain’s sunny bedroom becomes hazy and bright for a moment, and when Artis blinks he’s back in the _dark._ He stretches out a hand, knows somehow that he’s helpless and vulnerable here and that something’s _chasing him-_

”It wants the Orbs.” Teb’s voice rings out, sharp and hollow against the nothing. Artis flings his arms out as if he could catch onto the very sound itself. Nothing happens, and when Artis looks down he realizes he hasn’t moved his arms from his sides. The ground beneath him is wooden and solid and when he looks up he’s momentarily blinded by the sunlight streaming in through Dain’s blinds.

The only evidence that it happened at all is that his heart is beating so fast Artis can _feel_ it in his chest. 

”Well, I guess we’d better track it down then, huh?” Fidan says with such confidence that Artis’s chest squeezes. ”I don’t much like the sound of something unknown skulking around down there.” 

There’s no way they can beat the _thing,_ Artis doesn’t know how he knows but he does. Teb’s unseen _something_ must surely be the same thing that has been chasing him down, speaking in whispers and hiding just out of sight. And if so, if Fidan means to antagonize it then Artis also knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she will die trying.

And he absolutely will not let that happen.

”We’re not going searching for it.” Artis says, and he _knows_ that his words come off as sharp but he doesn’t care. Fidan’s lips settle into a stubborn pout, she’s going to argue but Artis cuts her off before she can even speak. 

”I’ve let this go too far already. Going down there again is suicide, and I won’t have any of you dying over some stupid old rocks.” The Orb of Might rests in his fist as his fingers clench around it. The pressure is soothing. 

Fidan’s expression goes taught, angry, but Artis is unfazed. Better she’s upset than dead. ”It’s not your damn job to _protect_ us, Artis.” She snaps, all fire and fury. ”These ’stupid rocks’ are my discovery and I’m not missing out on it because you got scared by some _shadows._ I told you! You don’t have to come.” 

Artis feels an eerie kind of calm settle in his chest at the words. It’s as if he’s hearing everything through water, like he’s been submerged and the conversation is happening above his head.

”If you go down there again I’m telling a professor. Maybe even the headmaster.” His grip around the Orb is so tight he’s dimly worried about shattering it, but somehow he feels as though he wouldn’t have the courage to continue if he lessened it even a little bit. The familiar weight is giving him strength, even now.

”If you tell anyone I’m never speaking to you again,” Fidan says, and the calm is gone as soon as it appeared. 

Artis feels mercilessly dragged back up to the surface. His heart starts pounding, his shoulders tense and he feels _trapped,_ surrounded on all sides by invisible threats. His eyes move frantically throughout the room, though he’s really not seeing any of it. Everything blurs and shifts and Artis doesn’t realize he’s gotten up until he’s already standing and backing up towards the door even though his legs are shaking and he feels like he’ll throw up any minute. The Orb is warm and safe in his palm and it’s all Artis can think about as he stumbles through the corridor and hears the door to Dain’s room slam shut behind him.

——

Artis stumbles through the cold night air all the way to the central fountain where he collapses, knees hitting the soft grass with a thud as he tries to catch his breath. His shoulders are shaking violently, and he’s been bracing himself with his palms against the ground but soon his arms give out and he falls. He manages to get his back to the ground, trembling and clutching the Orb to his chest like a lifeline as he tries to take deep, even, breaths. The roof of the giant cavern is speckled with crystals, creating Wildcliff’s very own version of a night sky as the moonlight dances and reflects between them. Artis finds himself tracing constellations, eyes flitting from crystal to crystal as his breathing finally slows. Now that he no longer hears the harsh pounding of his own heartbeat, Artis notes the quiet rustling of leaves and whistling of the wind. He feels _exhausted._

He doesn’t know how many minutes he spends there, lying in the dewy grass and counting constellations until finally, blissfully, he starts to relax. It’s nighttime, but Artis seems to be alone in the courtyard which means that the golems haven’t started their nightly patrols yet. He absentmindedly notes that it can’t have been very long in that case. 

_Crunch,_

The grass is wet, but there are enough fallen leaves that the sound of approaching steps is unmistakable. 

_Crunch,_

Not loud enough to be a golem, but definitely not a critter or some kind of animal either. Whatever it is it’s approaching, and Artis doesn’t even dare breathe. Maybe it hasn’t noticed his presence.

_Crunch, step_

Artis can’t quite shake the terrifying thought that maybe the thing from the Hatch has finally caught up with him.

_Step, step._

The noise stops abruptly and Artis hesitantly lets out a breath. Maybe it had decided to leave, or turned around or something. Maybe it hadn’t noticed him. 

After a few seconds deliberation, Artis dares move his head, one agonizing centimeter at the time, to try to get a better look. The light from the crystals above has him blinking a few times to see through the darkness, but he soon catches sight of a figure silhouetted against the lit up facade of the Eastern Dorms. It’s a short, gangly figure, decidedly unthreatening. For a second Artis feels sheepish, prepared to explain himself to a bewildered professor or student, but as he’s getting up he realizes. 

It’s Teb.

Tebathe’s standing there with an unreadable look on his face, staring straight at Artis with such intensity that his stomach coils. That strange _alien_ feeling is back, stronger than ever and Artis feels confused because he’s not _scared_ of Teb he’s just… well, Teb’s acting very scary. 

In the back of Artis’s mind something _shifts,_ so subtly he can’t be sure it happened at all. _Reverence,_ he finds himself thinking. _How could I have let this happen?_

He sits upright in a rush, feeling confused and defensive but before he gets as much as a word out Teb’s turning away. Artis watches in quiet bewilderment as his friend turns on his heel and _sprints_ in the opposite direction. By the time Artis has gotten to his feet, the only trace of him left is the quiet echo of footsteps in the empty courtyard.

——-

Things are…strange, after that. 

Not even a week has passed before Fidan apologizes. Artis does so too, and they hug and he knows she’s probably going to go right back to planning in secret but he also knows he can’t stop her. And he hates fighting, especially with Fidan. So he says sorry and she promises to be _really_ careful and they leave it there for now. 

Dain, too, wastes no time checking up on him. He starts coming by after classes end with tea and company and he asks Artis multiple times if he wants to talk but somehow the words always die in his throat when he tries. Dain says he’s used to it because his sister is afraid of the dark, and Artis doesn’t correct him because that would make the _thing_ that much more _real_ and Artis can’t deal with that right then. The tea helps, and the company helps even more. 

But Teb stays gone. Artis still sees him in the classes they share but as soon as he’s able, Teb always seems to disappear without a trace. Artis never sees him in the dining hall either, and whenever he goes to the library Teb’s usual window spot is always empty. 

It hurts, being apart for so long.

Artis can’t quite shake the feeling that he’s _caused_ this somehow, that Teb’s staying away because for some stupid irrational reason Artis is _afraid_ of him. It’s absolutely ridiculous, but he doesn’t know what to do because usually when he wants to talk about strange things he’d go to Teb. They’d sit down with books and talk it through and Teb would find some kind of inconsistency or some element of humor in the absurdity and then everything would be fine. Talking to Fidan and Dain isn’t the same. 

So Artis doesn’t talk. He stays on his guard, glances at Teb during class and trying to catch up with him during recess. He borrows Teb’s favorite books from the library and doesn’t return them in the hopes that Teb will track him down, and he tries with _all_ his might to banish the memory of the unnerving circumstances of their last meeting. 

Every night he dreams, and more often than not he’ll wake up panting, scrambling for his orb and for the security it provides when he holds it close. Nothing ever _happens,_ nothing beyond the dark and the fear, but Artis is always left looking over his shoulder nonetheless. The shadows grow in size until Artis joins his friends for breakfast. It’s always a little easier, after that.

——-

It’s been three weeks of Artis looking for Teb during the days and fruitlessly waiting by his dorm for him to return during evenings when it all comes to a head. 

It’s a cold and somber autumn day, Artis has been stuck in class since second period and he’s walking down the corridor towards the library with Dain next to him. One of those days where Artis can’t seem to stop checking every shadow and corner, just in case. Dain’s suggesting they head outside and play some cards instead of study and Artis is about to reply when he sees it. 

On the other side of the corridor, the unmistakable form of Tebathe closing the door to a teacher’s room behind him and-

Artis doesn’t know what gets into him, but all he can think is he _misses_ Teb and he doesn’t know why the other is avoiding him but he’s _sorry_ and he’s gotta _catch up_ so he completely tunes Dain out and begins sprinting down the corridor, terrified that Teb’ll disappear round a corner and this chance will be lost forever. 

He’s almost caught up when Teb turns around, eyes wide and shocked and Artis doesn’t know what he expected, really. That Teb’d be remoseful, maybe, or confused. Maybe he hasn’t been avoiding Artis at all, and it’s just a big coincidence they haven’t seen each other and talked for two weeks. He certainly doesn’t expect for Teb’s expression to change from shock to horror, and he’s even more surprised when the boy drops his books on the ground and starts running the other direction. _Away_ from Artis. 

The old hurt wrenches itself back into Artis’s mind and he can feel hotness prickle at the corners of his eyes. He just wants to know _why,_ he and Teb used to be _best friends_ and Artis doesn’t know why it changed. Doesn’t know what he did _wrong._

So he grits his teeth and keeps running, pushing past bewildered students and research assistants alike and making sure not to loose sight of Teb’s coattails in the blur of action. 

It’s so _important_ that he catch up, absolutely _vital._ Artis can feel the Orb of Might in his pocket, a warm sensation of comfort and encouragement. Yes, he _needs_ to catch Teb, _no matter the cost._

Teb’s always been quicker than Artis, almost as quick as Fidan even though she’s probably got 20 centimeters on him, but Artis knows he can’t keep up the speed for long. Tebs talents lie in science and literature, not in sprinting down hallways and Artis is sure that he’ll catch up as long as he can keep his eyes on him. Even so, Artis hasn’t eaten or slept properly in weeks and he’s finding himself growing tired far quicker than expected. He clenches his fists tightly and presses on, but exhaustion has made him sloppy and when Teb rounds a corner and Artis follows suit, his foot catches on the base of a pillar and he _falls._

Artis’s head hits the ground with a thud and he sees Teb stop in the staircase he was rushing down and look back up. For a moment Artis wants to push himself up, knows that _catching_ Teb is what he has to do and-

And what?

Artis realizes with a start that somewhere along the way his goal had changed from _apologizing to his friend_ to _catching him at all costs._ He feels nauseous as he staggers to his feet, right hand dropping the wand he’d been clutching tightly without even realizing. He feels disgusted and afraid of himself, aware that just a few moments prior he’d been ready to fire off a spell at one of his _best friends._

He looks down the staircase where Teb was standing and finds it empty. His throat feels uncomfortably tight as he reluctantly turns away.

As he begins to walk back he wonders if he was ever being chased at all. It seems all the more likely that the _thing_ knew it had won all along, and was simply taking its time.

He wants to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is past 1am and this chapter was Not easy to write after recent podcast events However I am still proud of it. Might give it a proper readthrough after I've slept though...

_It’s an unusually hot day. Fidan has been bemoaning the heat all morning, wishing the protective gear they’re all wearing came with an option for shorts, despite it being 40th day of Autumn and, Artis thinks, barely warm enough for short sleeves. She was convinced that wearing warm clothes would make her tire out and give a poor performance during the duel, but looking at her now it’s impossible to tell._

_Out of the four of them, she’s undeniably the strongest member of their team. She’s quick, agile and almost impossible to predict and even though Artis knows more complicated spells he tends to fumble his execution. Dain’s earth prowess made him a huge asset during the previous round, but he’s having trouble protecting their flag since the opposing team also has a skilled geomancer on their side. Teb’s stepped in as support, generally trying his best to irritate and confuse the opponents with strategically timed teleports and uses of Mage Hand._

_That leaves Artis and Fidan on the offensive._

_Out on the field, all of them trust Fidan completely. She’s unparalleled in her ability to quickly assess a situation and react on instinct, and all of them have been saved thanks to her ingenuity at least once. Artis tends to have to force himself to look away, lest he forget his own duties as he becomes mesmerized by the way she flits from side to side, dodging blows and dealing them in turn all the while barking out orders as if it were nothing. Were it not for her equally strong love for science and archeology, Artis thinks she’d have been a phenomenal professional duelist._

_Following her orders he advances on his opponent, a petite gnome girl who seems to be chanting some kind of necromancy spell judging by the dark smoke she’s conjuring. Artis quickly intercepts, countering her spell and throwing out a weak fireball to catch her off guard. He could probably have done more, he thinks as he pushes past her to back up Fidan who’s going straight for the flag, but he gets nervous under pressure and he doesn’t want to let his team down by screwing up a spell._

_Fidan turns around to look him in the eye mid-sprint and Artis feels blinded by how brilliant her brown eyes look, sparkling with determination and ambition. He grins at her, and she grins back. Her brown hair is tied back in a ponytail that’s partially come loose, and she looks wild and free and stunning._

_”Artis! Tidal wave me!” Fidan yells at the top of her lungs, and Artis feels a stab of excitement in his chest. They’ve discussed this strategy before, but only in the abstract. Artis doesn’t really think it could work, however Fidan never really stopped being enchanted by how cool it would be. And, well, out on the field Artis trust her completely._

_He stops, takes a firm stance and begins to conjure the spell, tuning out everything but the words in his head and the view of Fidan running in front of him. The world fades away, leaving only Artis and Fidan and the brilliant sun in the sky as the ground begins to tremble beneath his feet and he tastes saltwater in his mouth. Fidan screams with joy, rushing right past their opponents as an enormous wave carries her high in the air. Distantly, Artis can hear gasps and cheers from the onlookers as his Wave knocks their remaining opponents off their feet._

_He looks up, sees Fidan jump and hit the ground all in one fluid motion. She throws her head back and water cascades off her hair and clothes. She’s holding a bright red piece of cloth in her hand and laughing so much her shoulders are trembling. Artis feels warmth blossom in his chest at the sight, an indescribable feeling of joy and accomplishment. His eyes prickle as the combined force of Dain and Teb attack him from behind in a hug. They’re both laughing, loud and bright and Artis feels himself joining in. His arms wrap around Fidan and Teb as tightly as they hold him, and they all crumble to the ground together, breathless and excited and **happy.**_

_Artis closes his eyes, remembers wishing the moment would last forever._

_When he looks up it’s as though the scene has_ shifted. The sun is still hanging in the sky, bright and clear but it’s rays feel colder, as if they’re exposing him. The ground beneath his feet is grey and soggy and it clings to him. Fidan, Teb and Dain all move stiffly, like marionettes on strings.

Artis takes a step back, away from his friends. The people in the rafters all around him are still cheering, but the noise is hollow and cold and Artis wishes it would stop.

”Welcome.”

Artis feels the voice before he hears it, a puft of warm air next to his ear. He spins around, but there’s nobody but him standing in the arena. There’s a touch of humidity in the air, and a warmth that paradoxically sends shivers down Artis’s spine. 

”I have waited long to speak with you, child. You, who jump at shadows, yet embrace the light of Might so completely.” 

Artis keeps looking for answers in the air that surrounds him, yet he comes up short every time. Still he feels the presence of _something_ just out of sight. A shadow in the corner of his eye. 

The sun seems brighter, stronger than before. The shadows of large trees cover the ground now, big green leaves dripping with humidity. Artis shivers, presses his back up against one of the trees just to feel something solid at his back. He presses his hands over his ears, but it does nothing to block out the voice.

”Why do you fear me, child? I only ask for your help.” 

Artis can’t stop his shoulders from trembling.

”What I need from you is very simple. You have only to return below and collect Power and Progress, as you have Might. You may have lost Reverence, but I have high hopes that you shall find it once more.”

Artis remembers the feeling of his hand curling around hard wood, his arm raised to cast a spell. He remembers stumbling in a staircase, Teb’s expression going from confusion to terror and he remembers the horror he’d felt. The twisted desire to catch him _at any cost._ His legs are numb and his breathing shallow. His palms press against his head hard enough to hurt, and it’s not until Artis feels the ground beneath his knees that he realizes his legs have given out. 

”You will free me from my prison and I will reward you. I have seen what you desire, and I will give it to you. You will be safe. Your loved ones will be safe. All will be well.”

Artis presses his forehead to his knees and squeezes his eyes shut. He just wants this to be over. The sound of rustling leaves and cloyingly humid air on his skin makes him feel nauseous. 

”You will do this for me.”

Artis shakes his head instinctively. He refuses to go down to that _horrible_ ruin again and he _refuses to hurt Teb._ He knows, somehow, that the _thing_ already knows this. Has been expecting this. He knows it’s far wiser than anyone or anything Artis has ever faced before, and that it knows him inside out at a glance. He believes it when it says,

”You _will_ do this for me.”

——-

When Artis wakes up, the sun hasn’t begun to rise. He’s tired, sore and frightened, but he doesn’t dare go back to bed so instead he gets up. It’s been two days since the incident with Teb. Artis hasn’t left his dorm since.

He knows he can’t go to class without Dain or Fidan finding him, and he _can’t_ risk that. He never wants to feel the panic of knowing he almost hurt his friends again. 

It was almost frighteningly easy to lock himself inside. His cover story is that he’s sick, so sick that he can’t go to class or the dining hall. When he told Toland the golem, they promised him that he’d get his meals delivered until he feels better. Every morning, noon and evening since, when Artis turns his back to his desk, _something_ will have placed a steaming plate of food next to his writing utensils. 

He doesn’t have the energy to question it, barely even has the energy to eat in the first place.

But he’s not helpless or hopeless. No, Artis is certain that there’s got to be a way to get out of this situation without putting anyone else in danger. He just has to find it. So he’s been researching everything he can get his hands on, from domination-magic to psychological defense strategies. If he can only figure out how the _thing_ can influence his mind and thoughts then he can beat it.

It’s only a matter of time.

Days pass, in the meantime. Artis runs out of the books he’s kept for class and is forced to ask his neighbor, a polite elf named Thia, for help getting more. They bring him a large array of different books, so many his head kind of hurts just from looking at them. Artis receives the books and quickly shuts the door, heart racing. He’s terrified that the minute he lets his guard down _it’ll_ make good on it’s promise and something terrible will happen. He can feel it’s amusement.

It keeps to itself, as Artis flips through chapter after chapter. He hates the idea of serving as _entertainment_ , but it’s better than being a damn weapon.

Both Fidan and Dain come by multiple times, try to coax him out with promises or stories. Artis tells them again and again that he’s sick, he can’t come out they’ll have to wait. Fidan takes it pretty well, at first. She sits down on the opposite side of the door, tells Artis about anecdotes and knocks patterns in the wood for him to return. Her visits become less frequent, however, as Artis starts needing them more and more. Dain only comes by a few times. Somehow, Artis is almost certain Dain sees right through him. He shoots down Artis’s protests and asks him repeatedly to _come out._ Once, he says ”Come on, I’ve got something to tell you. It’ll only take a second,” and his voice is _vulnerable_ but Artis knows that the slightest hint of weakness is all _it_ needs. ”I’ll come out soon. This pesky illness is persistent,” he says, and it feels less true with every word. 

It’s only a matter of time. Artis feels like he’s starting to run out of it.

Artis falls asleep at his desk with his head in a book more often than he falls asleep in his own bed. Usually too exhausted to dream, thankfully, but he sleeps poorly and gets more and more irritable. He swears at the thing in his head on more than one occasion, but he never gets a reply.

It’s been two weeks since the incident with Teb when Artis finds it. He’s reading by the last natural light, sitting curled up by the window with a large alchemy tome balanced on his lap. It is technically an alchemical recipe, though it reads more like some kind of advertisement. 

_Do You suffer from confounding cerebral companions? Do you find yourself daydreaming and waking up in increasingly improbable situations? For such, or any other problems You might be suffering, try the Noinimod Esuffid, a surefire way of getting rid of any and all of your troubles. It is purchasable in my shop, on the Plane of Isathel for a very affordable price. I hope to see You there soon!_

_S_

The description sounded uncannily close, if worded a lot more lightly than Artis would ever dare to. Plus, the ingredients were easy to obtain, definitely the kind of stuff Artis wouldn’t have an issue finding if he went to the alchemical department. It was short too, in fact it only took up half the page and someone had covered the bottom half in a recipe for some kind of cinnamon cookie, scratched out in bright purple ink. It was worth a shot, surely. Artis couldn’t _wait_ to see his friends again. This _had to work._

——-

As it turns out, whoever is in charge of the alchemical storage room’s security should probably be fired. It takes Artis less than five minutes to pick the lock, and he’s sure Fidan could do it in one.

It hurts to think of her.

_____

Noinimod Esuffid turns out to be a pale, slightly purple tinted powder that glows with a dim light when placed in shadow. According to the book it’s also supposed to taste slightly citrusy and make an excellent flavoring for baked goods if one is not particularly concerned with the side effects. 

_Sprinkle a a pinch onto each eyelid before sleep, and prepare Yourself for a night of exceptionally odd dreams. Do not worry, this is perfectly normal. You will sleep for approximately half an hour, and when You wake up You will notice the effects right away.  
After a successful use, please take the time to recommend Noinimod Esuffid, to a friend, or to purchase some extra doses in case you’re affected once more._

When Artis measures up the amount his heart is pounding so hard in anticipation he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fall asleep. The powder is slightly lumpy and more blue than purple but alchemy was always Teb’s field, not Artis’s and he’s done the best he could. He hasn’t seen his friends in over two weeks and he doesn’t know how much he can take. 

He lays down on the bed and carefully sprinkles the powder on. His hands are shaking and his heart is pounding but two weeks of stressful sleep has taken a toll and he’s barely lowered his arm before he feels the waking world start to fade away. 

For the first time in many, many weeks he’s not afraid. 

He knows it’ll be over soon.

Soon.

——-

When Artis opens his eyes again he’s surrounded. There’s a dull ache in the back of his head, something vague and whisp-like that he can’t quite focus on. The robed figures all around him don’t move, Artis thinks they’re kneeling, or perhaps he’s floating. It’s difficult to tell when there’s no up and down, only him and them and _stars_ speckled all around him. As soon as Artis spots them he’s filled with desire, with reverence for their beauty. He’d like nothing more than to rise up alongside them and delight in their radiance forever. It’s not until he looks down again that he sees that he, too, is now kneeling. He does not know why, but he’s not perturbed. He’s basking in the light of the stars. 

The light blends together until it is enveloping, all encompassing, absolute. Artis closes his eyes against it’s brilliance, hides his head in his hands because suddenly he’s not enthralled, he’s _terrified_ that the stars will fall to the ground and take him with them. That he’ll _Ascend._

When he dares open his eyes again, there are no stars. There is only the dark, and Artis, and he’s _afraid,_ even still. The noise in the back of his head is louder, no longer a whisper but a chorus of voices, following no matter how far he runs.

The noise will not stop.

IT

FOLLOWS

Artis falls to the ground, curls up alone in the dark and wishes he’d never messed with the stupid alchemy in the first place. He covers his ears, curls up and tries to hide from all of it. His eyes are squeezed shut and he can feel cold stone against his cheek and feel tears running down his face. The noise grows louder still, echoing right next to him.

-tis? Artis! Artis! Wake up!  
———

Artis opens his eyes.

Through the bright haze of tears he sees dimly lit cobblestone flooring and wooden cabinets. On one bench sits a basket of apples, and next to it several jars of some kind of jam. It’s all cast in shadow, lit only by a few candles that decorate the walls. Artis lifts one hand and finds it covered in some kind of orange dust. It smells like cinnamon.

He’s in the _kitchens._

Then he looks up, and suddenly everything _clicks_ into place. Teb’s crouched on the floor next to him, green eyes studying him intensely and Artis knows immediately that the voice he’d heard belonged to Teb. Teb, who’s been avoiding him for _weeks,_ and who Artis thought for sure must hate him except Teb doesn’t look angry he just looks worried. Worried and afraid. 

Artis pushes himself up by the arms and looks around the room. It’s quiet, _deathly_ so, and Artis has been stuck inside his dorm for the last two weeks but he doesn’t think it’s ever been this quiet. He manages to lean his back against the wall and pushes himself fully into a seated position. There are multiple cracked bottles on the floor and spices all over. It doesn’t take much deduction to realize that Artis is leaning against the hidden door. 

”Artis? Are you-” Teb’s fidgeting, like he does when he’s dropped one of his most precious artifacts or when he’s been too lost in his work to remember to hand in assignments and he has to talk to teachers. Artis has been Teb’s friend for three years and so he knows his friend is _terrified._

”Please say you’re alright. Please, Artis.”

Artis doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t even know where to _start._ He nods anyway. Teb’s shoulders slump immediately with such relief that Artis’s chest hurts. 

”I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse and it’s more of a whisper than anything but Teb reacts as though Artis had shouted at the top of his lungs.

”Yeah I um. I screwed up, real bad Artis. I’m so sorry.”

Artis’s eyes are tearing up. Teb keeps _fidgeting_ and Artis wants to yell at him, to ask why he’s not _running_ if he’s scared. But Artis doesn’t want Teb to run, so he doesn’t yell. He just sits.

”I went down there again,” Teb continues listlessly. ”I figured out a way past the room with the urns, I put it together in the middle of the night and I didn’t want to wake you all so I figured I’d just go down there to try it out, just to see if I was right. Just- just to see. But uh.” He slowly reaches into his pocket and Artis _knows_ even before Teb pulls it out.

”Reverence” he whispers, and Teb looks like he’s about to cry.

”I’m sorry Artis, I wanted to tell all of you but then you ran off at the meeting and when I went after you-”

”You wanted to catch me, didn’t you?” Artis’s can feel warm tears on his cheeks again. It’s relief as much as anything, because he’d thought that Teb _hated him_ and somehow, an unknown force compelling them to hurt each other seems a lot less frightening. 

Teb just nods, and it’s not until now that Artis places the fear in his eyes. He’s not afraid of Artis. He’s afraid of _himself._  
”I- that day in the corridor. It happened to me too.” Artis’s hands are trembling and he grabs ahold of his pajama shirt to stop them. 

”I’m not afraid of you,” he says, mostly to hear it out loud. Teb wipes his eyes with the back of his shirt sleeve.   
”Yeah, me either.” He says, and it’s clear that he doesn’t mean it. 

They sit in silence for a moment.

”What do we do?” Artis asks finally. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest to finally be _understood,_ not have to run or hide. A foolish part of Artis’s heart is still hoping Teb will have a solution, some kind of method that can rid him of _the thing_ forever. Something that’ll return things to the way they used to be. Teb’s good at that, he’s a problem solver but Artis knows this is a problem not even he can solve.

When he meets Teb’s eyes, he sees that he knows it too. ”We can’t- we can’t be around each other. If we let our guards down then-” Teb quiets and Artis nods. 

”Right.” 

There is no miraculous solution that will save them.

”Only for a little while though. Until we figure this out.” Artis fights to keep his voice level as he speaks, looks down at the mess of spices on the ground and sees dark spots among them where his tears have fallen. 

”Yeah. A little while.” 

Artis leans forward, wanting some kind of reassurance even though it’s stupid and irresponsible and- 

Teb’s arms wrap around him, firm and comforting and Artis can feel his shoulders shake. For a moment, he buries his face in Teb’s cardigan and sobs.

”I’ll see you soon,” he stutters, wiping his eyes with one hand. 

”Yeah. See you soon, Artis.”

Neither of them can bring themselves to believe it.

——-

Artis stumbles up the stone staircase of the Eastern Dormitories. He’s cold and tired and all he wants is to sleep and hide from the world. 

It’s far past nightfall and the shadows seem to stretch and pull at his back as he walks past them. Artis swears he can see stars twinkling all around him, but they disappear when he tries to look closer. 

His door is slightly ajar, and Artis is pretty sure he had snuffed out the lights when he went to sleep but there’s a small stream of light coming out under the door nonetheless. He goes to open it and stops. Lets go of the handle and stares in shocked silence.

Inside Artis’s dorm, seated on the edge of Artis’s bed with her head in her hands is Fidan Peslam. 

Artis makes a shocked sound, half in confusion and half in relief. Fidan’s entire body turns toward him in a rush and Artis’s throat feels tight because her cheeks and eyes are red and puffy and she looks incredibly relieved. 

Her expression breaks into fury and Artis wants to _laugh_ because he’s been on the receiving end of this particular look many times before and he’s never felt this delighted before. 

”Where the hell have you been?” Fidan yells, except her voice breaks and instead of sounding mad she just sounds scared. Scared, and relieved. Before Artis knows it he’s stepped across the threshold and he’s closing the door behind him just as Fidan throws her arms around him and hugs him and Artis’s knees nearly go weak. 

He’s so _tired_ of running and lying and of saying _goodbye,_ and Fidan’s crying and shaking but even still she’s holding him up. She’s _always_ holding Artis up and it’s a beautiful and terrifying thing and Artis starts talking before he’s even registered it himself.

He tells Fidan everything as she holds him against herself, close and safe and Artis doesn’t _ever_ want to let go. 

——-

They’ve somehow ended up leaned against Artis’s bed, his head rested against Fidan’s shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around him. One of her hands is running through Artis’s hair softly, and he thinks he’s never felt anything more pleasant in his life. He’s finally stopped crying, out of exhaustion more than anything else, and his voice is hoarse and sore from crying and talking. 

Fidan listens to his entire story in silence. When Artis finally quiets, he can feel her take a deep breath. Her arms tighten around him, and Artis can’t help smile. He’s not felt this relaxed in _weeks._

”Dammit,” Fidan mumbles, half muffled by Artis’s hair. ”You idiot, you should have told me. Why the hell did you try to do this alone?” Artis can feel her shoulders shaking and he can hear her snivel quietly to herself.   
”I didn’t want to risk you or Dain getting hurt,” Artis mutters quietly. ”Even now it’s- it’s not gone. You should- you should probably go. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Fidan sobs angrily. ”I can beat you in a fight any day Artis,” she manages between tears. ”You’re not that strong.” 

Artis feels a wave of relief at her words. Fidan wasn’t leaving him. 

He isn’t alone anymore.

”Even if you were though, I’d still not leave you to deal with such a foe alone. No adventurer leaves their companions behind. Especially not when creepy mind-demons are involved.” 

Artis laughs quietly. If he had the energy he’d be crying from relief. As it is though, he feels crushingly, overwhelmingly happy. Safe, for the first time in many weeks. 

”Thank you,” he breathes, so quiet it is barely audible. Fidan’s grip around him tightened for a moment. 

”Idiot,” she mutters, and Artis lifts his head a bit to see her wipe her face with one hand. Her hair is mussy and ruffled and she’s wearing a dark pajamas. Her cheeks are blotched and her eyes are big and brown and Artis has never known with more certainty that he _loves her._ With all of his heart.

Something tense passes over Fidan’s expression for a moment, and her lips twist into a small smile. ”Well, while we’re on the subject of terrifying stuff I uh-” 

Artis sits up slowly. Fidan moves her remaining arm off his shoulders and Artis has to bite his lip to stop himself from asking her to put it back. He wraps his arms around himself instead. 

”I’m here cuz I- I had a really bad dream. You were there and, I dunno, we were running from something but it- uh- it got you before I could protect you. And I uh- I went to make sure you were okay just to be sure and then you weren’t and I just-” She shivers and Artis opens his mouth to reply but Fidan quickly shushes him.

”I didn’t want to lose you without at least telling you.” She says, and Artis’s eyes go wide. No- surely not.

”Tell me what?” He asks softly, feeling like he’s _floating_ all of the sudden. The world goes fuzzy, the background blends with with the dark until only he and Fidan remain. 

Fidan’s expression twists into a grimace for a moment, then she makes eye contact and Artis can _feel_ his cheeks redden in response. Fidan takes a deep, shuddering breath.

Then she kisses him.


	4. The end. Part one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this one was a straight bitch to write, seriously. I know I said I wasn't going to update the chapter count again, but I've decided to split the final chapter into two smaller ones which will hopefully make it a bit easier for me to finish it. Because I am determined to finish this thing, mark my fucking words.
> 
> That being said! Hope y'all enjoy part one! It's gonna get worse before it gets better.
> 
> Oh! And before I forget! This fic has a spotify playlist now, so if anyone is interested in hearing what I listened to as I wrote it, you can find that here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6EKdaCIZAmkLK99Db73OxL?si=4DAixGqbSyOCq5zuogDDlA 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Somehow, things return to a kind of normalcy. There are differences, of course; Artis sees Fidan and Dain every day but Teb is always absent. In class, Teb tends to sneak in late, after role-call, and take a seat in the very back. It doesn’t hurt as much now that Artis knows why. 

The voice in his head is ever-persistent, but Artis finds it much easier to resist when he’s with his friends. And with Fidan there to listen and take some of the burden off Artis’s tired shoulders he stops jumping at every shadow and sound. The dreams become less frequent, too. Fidan says most of them were probably regular nightmares, brought on by Artis’s declining mental stability and self-imposed isolation. Artis doesn’t know what to think. He’s just glad he can sleep again. 

He doesn’t trust himself alone with Dain, so he blames it on tiredness or homework and stops joining him for walks or games of cards. It hurts, but Artis absolutely doesn’t want to drag him into this. He’s already a target due to simple association and Artis wants at least _one_ of his friends to remain free. Safe. And yes, he knows it’s selfish but spending time with Dain, with someone who _doesn’t know_ , becomes a special kind of blessing. Fidan tries her best, but Artis often catches her looking worried or upset when she thinks he isn’t paying attention and he knows this is weighing on her too. He doesn’t think he’s strong enough to see Dain crumple under that weight.

Sometimes Artis looks at groups of friends or couples sitting together in the courtyard or joking together in the dining hall and he wishes so badly to go back to how things used to be. He wishes he could spend time with Fidan in the courtyard, wishes they could take long walks and hold hands and come running back to the dorms just before curfew like he so often sees couples do. Instead, he and Fidan spend their afternoons in Artis’s dorm, pouring over old textbooks and grimoires. 

Somehow, Artis still enjoys every second of it. 

The ways Fidan will fiddle with the ends of her short brown hair when she gets bored, or hum excitedly to herself as she reads are inexplicably comforting. She lays herself on her stomach on Artis’s carpet or sits cross-legged on his desk and suddenly his dorm feels warm and comfortable and pleasant, just from the brilliance of her smile. And she keeps on smiling when Artis can’t anymore and he _loves_ her for it, more than he could probably put into words. That stability anchors him, roots him to the ground like a prayer in a room filled with stars. 

——-

It’s Teb that finally finds it. 

It’s a Sunday, no classes are scheduled and Artis has let himself be convinced to join Dain and Fidan and some classmates for a game of football on the Evocation field after lunch. He’s barely gotten out of bed, still only half-dressed and hair mussed from sleep when Fidan bursts right into his room, arms full of crumpled notes. She looks wild, breathless, and slightly manic and Artis immediately notices that her eyes are dark and she’s swaying slightly on her feet. 

He thinks something might be wrong, except he can tell she’s trembling with _excitement_ , not fear. She barely looks at him as she stumbles in, dropping papers and a book on his bed before turning without a word and wrapping her arms around Artis, who’s still fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. She holds him tight for a long moment and he wraps his arms around her in return, somewhat bewildered but appreciative all the same. She is very warm and very soft to hold, and Artis feels for a moment like the world has paused mid breath to give them space. 

Then Fidan looks up, meeting Artis’s eyes and she’s grinning like he’s not seen her do for days. 

”We might have found a way to stop it,” she says, and all of the sudden the world is moving again as Artis draws a shaky breath. He’s in disbelief, he’s apprehensive he’s-

”H-how?” he stutters, voice wavering because more than anything Artis is _tired_. Tired, and hopeful. Fidan notices, of course, and squeezes him tighter. Artis is very glad she’s holding onto him because the world feels vaguely like it’s spinning around him and he’s not entirely certain his legs would hold if he were standing on his own. 

”I’ll show you,” she says.

——-

Fidan had brought at least 20 pages of notes with her and she dozes off before they’re even through the first two. Artis keeps reading for a bit, content to let her lean against his shoulder until she starts to quietly snore. 

He eventually manages to get her up onto his bed and covered by a blanket. He presses a shy kiss to her forehead before going back to the notes.

——-

It’s not a perfect solution.

Technically it’s more of a quick fix than a solution. Artis figures it’s the same as covering an active volcano in several kilograms of rock. The lava will eventually eat through the rock and when it does it’ll be stronger and fiercer than ever before, but by then the nearby cities will be evacuated and anything valuable safely relocated. Except, in this case, the bubbling lava is some kind of ancient _will_ under a hatch, and the rocks are a ritual that’ll lock said hatch under the power of the moon. 

As it turns out, the actual ritual itself is pretty much incomprehensible to Artis who hasn’t taken more than the single obligatory abjuration course and only passed by the skin of his teeth. Luckily, Teb must have foreseen this because half of the notes detail a thorough and much more easily digestible explanation of the method. It is hard not to feel touched, especially considering Artis knows that Fidan had top marks in Abjuration I. The notes are clearly not for her benefit.

_I’ve omitted a few details for the benefit of our passenger, however if I were to summarize the method very briefly it would go as follows:_

_During the apex of the full moon you, Fidan and I will venture down into the hatch once more and perform the ritual on the hatch. If my research is correct, and it is, the hatch is more than a mere physical barrier, it is a barrier between two realms, and it is from this other realm that the being is tormenting us. This ritual, if accurately performed, will bind the pathway to the cycles of the moon, causing the barrier to wax and wane along with the lunar cycles. The being will unfortunately still be able to access our dreams during every full moon, however during all other days of the cycle we should be safe from its influence. You could regard us as a pair of incredibly odd werewolves, if you were so inclined._

_I believe this should, at the very least, allow me to rejoin everyone during casual outings._ _That wou_

_I would g_

_I’ve missed you all_

_Teb._

Artis reads quickly, then he re-reads the entire text one more time for good measure. He makes no further attempts to decipher the contents of the book after Teb’s warning, but he also trusts Teb’s judgement to a fault and this _could_ work. 

_It actually could._

Artis feels vaguely faint, and he sits down heavily on the edge of his bed, daring for the _first_ time in _weeks_ to imagine that this could finally be over.

Things would be as they used to be.

——-

”It’s a full moon tonight,” is the first thing Fidan says when she wakes up. She’s slept for a grand total of six hours, and when she wakes up she wastes no time in devouring the meal Artis had picked up for her from the dining hall.

Of course, Artis had already looked at the records and so he knew very well that it would be a full moon that night. He doesn’t say that, though, because he’s already imagining being able to have lunch outside in the last of the autumn sun with Fidan and Teb and Dain, together again. 

——-

Fidan leaves a few hours after that, leaving Artis alone to prepare himself for the journey. His job is simple. Keep _it_ at bay, and protect Teb along with Fidan as Teb performs the ritual. 

_We will, unfortunately, have to assume that the being will try to use its power over our psyches to attempt to stop us. My theory as to why it hasn’t done so already is that we’re amusing it (which, eugh), but we can use this to our advantage._

_Artis, the following few notes contain some basic methods for protecting your psyche from the being. Some of these I use myself, some are simplified versions of what I tend to use. I’ve attempted to explain them as well as I can, and I would like for you to attempt to practice them before tonight._

_Of the two of us it seems to prefer you. I’m sorry that I can’t offer a better solution, but due to our limited timeframe this was the best I could do._

_Stay safe Artis. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions. Fidan will deliver them to me, and I will attempt to respond in a timely fashion._

Artis has gone through every technique in great detail, and although Teb’s instructions are far easier to follow than the dusty tomes Artis had been struggling with during his isolation he’s still had limited success. He’s supposed to visualize his mind as this closed off fortress, but it’s difficult because when he puts up walls they cast long shadows and blot out the light of the stars and- 

He takes a deep breath, tries again.

Limited success is better than no success, at least. 

Teb’s notes say to meet in the kitchen at 10PM. Just to be safe, Artis leaves his dorm at 9.30. 

The hallway is dark and silent as he closes the door to his dorm behind him. It’s past curfew, so it’s to be expected, but Artis still feels uneasy. The shadows seem darker and the walls taller, somehow. Artis knows _it’s_ probably laughing at him as he takes short and uncertain steps through the corridor, but it’s not making any sound and the silence is deafening.

Artis’s steps echo against the cold stone floor of the school, and the sound is so distracting that Artis doesn’t notice there’s more than one set of footsteps until he stops and the sound doesn’t. 

He spins around, shocked. If _it_ has come for him, he’s determined to at least put up a fight.

He looks up and down the hallway and his eyes freeze on the silhouette of a person, backlit by the bright moonlight. Artis and Dain lock eyes for a brief moment, and Artis can see both confusion and hurt in his friend’s eyes. His heart soars, all thoughts of defense forgotten. He’s _missed_ Dain today, and even though he’s in a hurry he would like to say hi. 

He takes a step closer, opens his mouth in a greeting, but Dain’s face remains stone cold, and Artis’s heart sinks. A feeling of dread washes over him, blanketing him in layers and layers of mistrust and worry. 

”Where are you going, Artis?” Dain asks, and he looks _angry_ , almost furious. Artis opens his mouth to answer, but closes it again. He can’t tell Dain now, he wouldn’t have the time to explain and he doesn’t want to put him in danger. 

”Where?” Dain repeats tiredly, and Artis’s heart squeezes. He tries feverishly to come up with a lie, but Dain would see through him anyhow and Artis hates lying. Especially to Dain. 

”I can’t say. I- I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He says, forcing himself to breathe evenly. Through the panic and fear as the dawning realization that something has _broken_ between him and Dain descends upon him. Artis wonders how long it’s been this way? Has he been too busy to notice, or has he simply decided not to think about it? He realizes with terror that he can’t say for sure.

”Tomorrow. Right,” Dain’s voice is tinged with annoyance now, and Artis’s heart squeezes because they’ve fought before but it’s never sounded like _this_. Never this…defeated.

”I’m leaving tonight, Artis. I meant to tell you, well, weeks ago really but you’ve been avoiding me. I have no idea why you stopped being my friend but, well, here we are. I thought you might like to know before I go.”   
  
Artis’s world _shatters._

Dain can’t go. Not now, not when Artis is _so close_ to fixing everything. Everything is going back to normal, but Dain has to _be there_ otherwise what’s the fucking _point?_ He feels nauseous, berating himself for spending so much time locked in his fucking _room_ when Dain is _leaving._

”Ive been offered an internship position at The Spire Nebulosis after graduation, and I’m taking it. I’ll be moving tonight, and taking my finals at a local school in the city.” Dain continues, but Artis is barely listening. His thoughts are racing and he’s clinging on for dear life.

There’s a quiet hum, perhaps of amusement and perhaps of satisfaction, in the deepest reaches of Artis’s mind. A sudden feeling of hopelessness washes over Artis, a deep belief that if Dain isn’t there, then why try at all? Why bother solving everything if there’s no _normal_ to return to?

Dain’s cold, broken laughter pierces through the din of Artis’s thoughts and he looks up. 

”Wow. Okay. I- Fucking hell Artis I thought you’d at _least_ be happy for me.” Artis’s face burns with shame and guilt.

”I guess that was too much to ask of you, huh? Well. I won’t keep you,” Dain says, and he’s good at pretending but Artis can hear his voice tremble and knows Dain is hurting. He wants to reach out, to comfort, but he knows he’s lost that privilege now.

He’s out of time, and all Artis can do now is watch the hourglass smash into a thousand pieces against the stone floor. He feels his eyes prickle with tears and swallows them bitterly.

Dain turns without another word. Every single echoing step he takes feels like a stab in Artis’s chest. 

Unable to think or feel, Artis does the only thing he can think to do to _fix this_.

He turns around, back the way he was going, and runs in the direction of the kitchens. 


End file.
